An Unexpected Party
by Thalion Estel
Summary: As a writer, Thalion Estel is used to her muses interrupting her life with ideas for stories. But when ten of Tolkien's characters burst into the middle of her worldview class, even she is caught off guard. How will her classmates and teacher react? What will the "guests" think of the class' members? And will Thalion ever be able to write the (apparently) very important story?


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's amazing characters.**

 **Author's Note: Hey, guys! This is a special story which is meant to be a tribute to my worldview class. I am about to graduate, and while that is exciting, I will miss my classmates and teacher terribly, and I just couldn't resist writing a little fic in their honor. I hope you all enjoy, and please don't forget to review!**

 **. . .**

Dedicated to my fantastic worldview class and teacher. You guys are the best; thanks for being awesome!

An Unexpected Party

In a worldview class there sat a writer. Not a professional, published author, filled with self-confidence and pride, nor a totally worthless dreamer without some feeling of worth: it was a fanfiction writer, and her name was Thalion Estel.

Estel glanced at her watch and let out a sigh. She loved worldview class—really, she did—but it should have been break and snack time ten minutes ago, and her stomach was informing her of the fact rather loudly. As if reading her mind, the Teacher reached a stopping place and declared it time to eat. Thalion gladly stood and made her way to the counter on the small room's edge, eagerly snatching up a healthy helping of chips, Oreos, and soda.

As her classmates began getting their food and sitting down, Estel allowed her mind to pursue what it so often did when nothing else engaged its attention: she made a mental commentary of everything going on around her. She noted insignificant details about how the Princess, the only other female student, sat down and began browsing through some newsfeed on her phone. She pushed her wavy blond hair out of her eyes and scanned whatever the latest headline was, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world. The writer then turned her attention to the boy who took his seat next: the Beekeeper. He set down his plate and began playing with a fedora he always brought to class until the Skateboarder came back to the table and began engaging the Beekeeper in a conversation about computers. At this turn of dialogue, Estel turned off her sound receptors, but she continued with her writer's antics. The last member of class, the Gamer, finally sat in his spot and began typing on his computer, but he still managed to join in the conversation with the other boys.

"Did you enjoy reading _That Hideous Strength_ this week?" the Teacher asked, snapping the writer out of her pointless musings. Estel nodded.

"The pace has picked up so much more in these later chapters. I am enjoying it a lot. Lewis has a ton of great stuff to say, especially about magic and the order of nature."

"Yep. Classic Lewis," the Teacher replied with a grin.

Before Thalion's discussion with the Teacher could continue, the entire class was disturbed by a loud ruckus coming from the ramp just outside the building. The clamor was a mixture of shouts, laughs, stomps, and even singing, and suddenly Thalion felt a shiver of doom. The noise sounded a little too much like some people she knew couldn't be here right now. _Shouldn't_ be here right now. Goodness, how she hoped this would not be one of _those_ days.

But doom does not listen to hopes.

The door burst open with Aragorn leading the pack. After him came Boromir and Gandalf, and then the four hobbits, and last Legolas and Gimli, arguing as if they were in a perfectly normal setting. The group piled through the door, and just as it was about to shut, another figure shoved her way in: Galadriel. The worldview class all gasped and started back, and Estel wished she could crawl into a corner and disappear. There was only one person in this room that those annoying characters could be here to see, and drawing attention to herself was never Thalion's intention. Or desire.

"Estel," Aragorn said cheerily, not seeming to notice the shock of the others in the room. "We have an excellent idea for a story in mind, and we'd like to discuss it immediately."

Darn muses. So demanding at all hours of the day, as if the writer's sole purpose is to fulfill their whims.

Estel gaped, but since the possibility of her classmates calling the police was actually a real problem, she knew she had to act quickly. She pushed back her chair and stood up, rubbing her hands together and trying not to pay attention to the stares the five normal people were giving her right now.

"I am in class, guys," Thalion said as calmly as she could, though her anger was detectable. "No muse interviews without appointment except between 9 and 10 pm on the second Saturday of every month!"

Aragorn smiled as if this were funny and shook his head. "You know we've never held to that rule. This is a great story! It would be a crime for you to ignore it."

"I'll tell you what's a crime:" Estel said, forgetting how strange this argument must seem to her astounded class, "busting into my worldview class just to tell me some idea! They—" she pointed sharply to her fellow students and the Teacher, "—aren't writers! At least, not as obsessively as I am. You're probably freaking them out! Look at them; I am pretty sure that even if you leave immediately, at least half of them will need therapy."

"But what about IHOP?" Aragorn pushed. "No one minded when I waltzed in that time."

"That's because we were all tired and delirious anyway, and that was a pack of fangirls. I doubt they were using any reason at all. But now more than ever, this class has the reason section of their brains turned on. Your presence has broken _at least_ seven rules of what is generally accepted as reality, and you've brought the _entire_ Fellowship with you . . . and Galadriel, too. Why is she here, anyway?"

"I have a score to settle," the said Noldo growled, suddenly producing a most ferocious and yet still beautiful and majestic glare. The object of her anger, the Beekeeper, seemed to wither under her powerful gaze, melting into his chair as if that would make him invisible.

"What'd I do?" he asked in a trembling voice when the silence became too oppressive.

"Estel," the Teacher finally cut in. Thalion was surprised when she plucked up the courage to face him that he didn't seem as disturbed as a normal person would at seeing characters from a fantasy novel. But at the same time, he didn't appear very excited, either. "An explanation would be wonderful."

Estel grinned sheepishly and then gave Aragorn a fierce get-over-here-and-help-me-clean-up-your-mess look. He obliged, crossing in front of the tables and meeting the fanfiction writer at the Teacher's desk. But before Thalion could say anything, the ranger suddenly moved back towards the Princess and pulled something from his pocket.

"This is in compensation for the morsels of IHOP belonging to you of which I indulged upon our last meeting," he said very politely, handing the Princess a ten dollar gift card to the restaurant. "I hope this removes any stain upon my honor in your eyes."

The Princess grinned a bit, and since she did not seem to be in a fangirling mood, she took the gift card in silence. Satisfied with himself, Aragorn then crossed the room back to the Teacher and Estel, awaiting accusations with an innocent smile.

"Aragorn," Estel began slowly, "you cannot bring me ideas for stories while I'm in the middle of class. Don't you think that's disrespectful to the Teacher?"

Aragorn seemed to have not considered this (muses never do!), and he mulled it over for a few seconds. Finally, he stood up straighter and focused his attention on the Teacher directly.

"Sir, I in no way meant any disrespect. It happens that your student is often in my employment, and I was unaware that my and my friends' entry would disrupt your instruction. Please forgive me."

While Estel was still trying to decide if being dubbed in Aragorn's employment was a compliment or an insult, the Teacher did a marvelous job of coping with the strange situation. He remarkably replied as if Aragorn were just an average person, giving a genuine smile and even a slight chuckle.

"No harm done. I have heard a bit of the extent of Estel's work, and I understand your desire for her time."

Again, Thalion wondered if she should be insulted or not, but she was pretty sure she ought to be glad that two of her heroes were talking kindly of her writing, so she decided to treat the situation as such. Mustering what little inner strength she had, she tried to remedy the whole situation.

"Aragorn, we have about an hour more of class. Could you and the rest of the crew wait outside? I'll talk to you when I'm through."

To Estel's surprise, neither man was thrilled by her suggestion. Aragorn insisted that the idea for the story was too important and fragile, and without notes, it might be lost altogether. The Teacher was kind enough to offer the Fellowship hospitality inside the room since it was getting to be warm outside. Thus without much consultation of the writer who was in the midst of the issue, it was agreed between leaders that Estel would take some notes for the story during snack and the Fellowship would wait around until class was over.

Estel was never very good at reading what people were thinking, but she got the feeling that the Teacher wanted a private word with her. She kindly bid Aragorn to offer the Fellowship the leftover snacks while she spoke with her instructor. The ranger did as she asked, and when he was out of ear shot, Thalion tried her best to explain the presence of those people in the room whom most would deem fictitious.

"I'm really sorry about this," Estel quickly said, almost in a whisper. "They are . . . characters from Tolkien's works. I can't explain the science or logic of it; they started coming when I picked up writing, and they refuse to go away. But maybe this will make for some . . . interesting worldview discussions. After all, you yourself said that fiction is, in a sense, objective reality."

The Teacher smiled and even laughed. "So I did. Perhaps we'll understand someday. For now, it's alright the way it is. Clearly your friends mean no harm. Just . . . try not to let it happen often. Or with any less-than-desirable characters."

Thalion was impressed by the calmness with which her instructor was taking the situation, and she decided that she did not need to explain anything further if he was content. But right before she turned to sit down, the Teacher asked one more thing.

"Is this connected with the visitor we briefly received after your speech on Númenor?"

Estel stifled a chuckle. "Maybe," was all she said. That was a story for another time.

Now she faced the room, which was humming quietly with activity. But what met her eyes was perhaps the strangest sight she had ever seen. Two cultures, two totally different worlds, in fact, had merged together in the space of a few minutes. The room seemed divided up into groups, and as Estel glanced at each group, she was surprised at the manner in which the Fellowship had assimilated into her class.

The Princess was still looking at her phone, but Gandalf was reading over her shoulder. The room was small enough that Thalion could pick up their conversation pretty easily. They appeared to be in the middle of a discussion about current events, a topic which Gandalf seemed to find most interesting.

"So this man, this 'president', isn't supposed to create executive orders?" Gandalf asked in clarification.

"Technically there is no Constitutional base for it," the Princess explained. "And especially not in this case when the power he wants to use is far above his position."

Gandalf frowned, his large eyebrows knitting together in a curious expression. "Then why do the people tolerate his orders if these commands defy his duty, oath, and purpose."

"A very good question," the Princess answered with a sigh.

Thalion closed her gaping mouth and turned her attention to the next little sect. This one was a bit more like a debate than the first, and it made Estel have pity on the Beekeeper. Galadriel was in the midst of quite a long rant, and Thalion quickly guessed its purpose. The Beekeeper had once mentioned something he heard about a balrog named Gothmog, and when Estel had explained to him the history of the said beast and the elf whom it slew, Fingon the Valiant, the Beekeeper's response had been "lol". Thalion must have accidently mentioned the encounter to Galadriel, for the Lady of Light was now on a tirade to both defend her cousin's honor and, unfortunately, destroy that of the Beekeeper.

"But 'lol' can have more than one meaning," squeaked the Beekeeper, averting his gaze from that of Galadriel just long enough to glare at Estel. "What I meant was 'lots of love'."

The Noldo scoffed. "Do not take me for a fool," she said icily, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Do you think I am ignorant of your strange dialect? 'Laugh out loud' is the proper meaning of that term. Laugh out loud? If you had been there, if you had seen his fair blue banner trampled into the dirt, mingling with his own blood and the mire of the unholy ground, laughter would have been the farthest thing from your mind. It was the simple and defenseless such as yourself that Fingon fought and died to protect, and what respect do you give the fallen? Laugh out loud indeed!"

"Really, I admire what Fingon did!" the Beekeeper insisted. "I wish I could have met him; I don't mean to dishonor him at all."

"You may yet meet him," Galadriel threatened, "as you pass through the Halls of Mandos!"

"Um, Galadriel," Estel interrupted. "I can vouch for the Beekeeper; his comment was made without much forethought, and I believe his apology is sincere. Perhaps you should calm down a bit. After all, I am sure that I can think of a few times in both your and Fingon's past when you said or did things you regret. For example—"

"Silence, mortal!" Galadriel hissed. "I do not need your reminders." But the elf slowly considered what Thalion had said, and at last she sighed. "Alright; I will forget the insult, but only when it has been paid for."

The Beekeeper swallowed hard. "How do I do that?"

"What if he writes an essay on the valor of Fingon?" Estel suggested.

"Excellent!" Galadriel exclaimed excitedly. "I will be happy to provide you with all the facts you need."

The Beekeeper, who would normally have been upset by the prospect of an essay, was quite happy to have an opportunity to be on the Lady of the Golden Wood's good side, so he immediately pulled out a paper and pencil to take notes. The Noldo herself appeared thrilled to get to dictate a story about her family's amazing qualities, and so Estel felt that she could safely direct her attention to the group of people to the Beekeeper's left.

Creating a scene that nearly caused Estel to snort with laughter, the Gamer had surrendered his laptop to Boromir and was coaching him through the level of a video game. The backseat drivers, Merry and Pippin, were busy throwing in their advice, and in the end, it looked hysterical.

"The foul fiend will not die!" Boromir exclaimed, hitting a key over and over with severe force. From his expression, one could have believed him to be in a real battle.

"Careful with the computer," the Gamer reminded with concern. "You aren't using the right attacks. You need to press the—"

"Look out!" Pippin cried, pointing dramatically to some figure on the screen. "Why aren't you killing it?"

"Fire; fire!" Merry insisted, reaching forward to tap the button himself. Boromir used his elbow to bat away the hobbit's attempt, banging all the keys on his own accord.

"Ha, ha!" the Captain of the Guard exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. "I told you I could do it. Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy—"

"You're not done yet!" the Gamer proclaimed, reaching to the keyboard and pushing all the correct buttons. There was a brief tug-of-war between the four people surrounding the computer, and after a moment, they all gave a sigh of relief.

"That was close," Pippin said with a huff.

"Too close," Merry agreed.

While the group got started on their next level, Estel diverted her attention to the last and most horrifying situation of all: Aragorn had joined Frodo and Sam in looking through all of her homework. The young writer hurried over and snatched up her binder and work book from the two hobbits, giving them each a glare.

"Why did your teacher copy the same grade onto every single week?" Sam asked, rubbing his finger which had received a paper cut when he lost custody of the book.

"Because I always get the same grade," Estel replied, lifting her nose slightly as the proud part of her personality surfaced. "A+ for perfection".

"Not all the papers in the binder had the same grade," Frodo reminded. "Though I do think the thoughts contained in your essay about Ecology and Christianity were quite insightful."

Estel ground her teeth together and let out a long breath through her nose, shaking her head. Those interfering hobbits! At least she really didn't have anything to be ashamed of in her work; she was actually quite a good student. The only thing she could really be sorry the hobbits saw would be notes taken by hand, where her dearest of friends, Spellcheck, did not give her aid. Her thoughts about what the hobbits might have read were interrupted by Aragorn.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked, his right eyebrow raised in a Spock-like expression.

Thalion looked up and saw that the ranger was holding her copy of _That Hideous Strength_ , which the class had read as part of their homework during the past week. She cocked her head to the side and shrugged.

"What's wrong with it?" Estel inquired. "It's quite a good book."

" _This_ ," he stressed, holding the page so Thalion could see it and pointing to a specific word on it. "Why is Númenor spelled incorrectly?"

"Well," Thalion said sheepishly, "back when Lewis wrote that, Tolkien was going to write a time travel story to go with it, and "Numinor" was supposed to be a part of it. But then he incorporated it into his legendarium of Arda instead as Númenor."

"You mean Númenor wasn't intended to be as it really was?" Aragorn said, his face displaying his thorough confusion. Estel just sighed.

"Aragorn, right now you're in the Primary World; let's not try to untangle the philosophy of the relationship between this and the secondary worlds. _Please_?"

The ranger yielded, though he continued thumbing through the book as Frodo and Sam rummaged through Thalion's bag to find other books. They eventually got their hands on _Total Truth_ and _How Should We Then Live_ , but this actually made Estel feel pretty good. If they had to go through any books, these were some of the better ones. Although she would have enjoyed discussing the three books with her three guests, the writer suddenly became aware of a rather pressing problem.

"Hey, where's the Skateboarder?" she asked, looking around the room for the said student. Not seeing the said member of class, she spoke up a little more. "Where is the Skateboarder? And what about Legolas and Gimli?"

"They went skateboarding outside," Sam answered without looking up from the precious pages of Schaeffer. "What else would a skateboarder do?"

Without dignifying the hobbit's question with a response, Estel hurried to the door to make sure that no wars were beginning in the parking lot. When she got outside, she could not help but release a laugh. Legolas was doing his thing: skating on all the curbs with perfect grace, flipping over cars, and rolling up the trunks of trees. The writer supposed that the anti-physics drugs Peter Jackson had put the Prince of Mirkwood on during the filming of their latest movie had not yet worn off.

"You blasted elf!" Gimli growled from his position on the sidewalk. "Stop acting like a circus performer and let me have a turn!"

"Only if you can catch me, Gimli," the elf replied with a chuckle that would have made fangirls shiver. The Skateboarder, who stood off to the side, was seemingly awestruck by the elf's quickly developed skill, and the only reason Estel was not also amazed was because of her experience with elves, especially show offs.

"Y'all ought to come in soon," Estel said as she turned to go back inside. "The Teacher will want to start class up again in a few minutes."

And so the writer went back into her class. The room still buzzed with activity, though now Aragorn had given _That Hideous Strength_ to Sam and taken up a discussion of economics with the Teacher. Estel took it upon herself to pass out the rest of the snacks to those from Arda who had yet to get some food, and by the time she finally sat down, she and Aragorn only had two or three minutes to jot down notes for the "important" story before the class resumed.

The following hour was one of the strangest Thalion had ever lived through. It was quite an experience to talk about the material from the week's homework in the presence of and with comments from the Grey (and White) Wizard, the King of Gondor, the Lady of Lórien, the Prince of Mirkwood, the Captain of the Guard, the Lord of the Glittering Caves, the Thain of the Shire, the Master of Buckland, the Mayor of the Shire, and the Bearer of the One Ring. But it was very enjoyable, and the Fellowship plus Galadriel added a lot of good thoughts to the discussion.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. And so it was that when the clock struck six-thirty, the class finished up and began to disperse. Upon receiving a call from her mother, Thalion was forced to drive home immediately for dinner, so the characters from the world's best (fiction?) story said their goodbyes to the members of the worldview class and began the tedious process of fitting all ten members of their company into the seven passenger van that Estel would be piloting to her house. The car ride remained the only time for her to get the details for the story they wanted her to write.

"Thalion," the Teacher called from his desk just as the said writer was about to walk out.

"Yes, sir?" Estel asked, turning to face her instructor and wondering what he would say.

"What kind of story did they want you to write about?" he asked, curiosity obvious in his voice and face.

Thalion blushed bright red and tried to suppress a nervous chuckle. "Oh, you know, just a story about them visiting my worldview class." Before any realization of what that statement meant in regard to reality could sink in, Estel said a hasty farewell and quickly exited the room, letting the door clang shut behind her.

 _What trouble muses can cause!_ she thought to herself as she approached the packed minivan. _But in the end, it was probably worth it,_ she concluded. Stories are important, after all, and her worldview class had certainly enjoyed the guests. And she'd had a fun time, too. It had been a pleasant, unexpected party.

 **I hope you guys liked the story. Please be sure to leave me a review! In regard to coming fics, I have an Avengers: Age of Ultron one shot that's almost ready to post (hope y'all like Quicksilver!), a crackfic for Hunger Games and then another for Chronicles of Narnia, and a super long story (fandom currently classified) that still needs a lot of work. And I'd like to write a tribute to Josh Hamilton, who finally came back to play for the Texas Rangers (I was literally almost crying with joy when I heard the news. What can I say? I have a genetic disorder in which my emotions are directly connected to baseball). Anyone got suggestions for that? I'm thinking that I'll do something with Tolkien characters, but I just don't know. PM me if you have any thoughts. Thanks again for reading my story!**


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